


Absolution

by krikkiter68



Category: The Thick Of It
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual References, F/M, Fighting, Insomnia, Jealousy, M/M, One Shot, Remorse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 12:50:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4222350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krikkiter68/pseuds/krikkiter68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm and Jamie have a violent, sweary lovers' tiff, as they do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absolution

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction, exploring the troubled nature of Malcolm and Jamie's relationship, and the slap is never repeated. I wish to make it clear though that I do not condone or support any form of domestic abuse whatsoever. Stay safe, everyone. x

It’s 4.40am. Malcolm exhales as he gazes up at the night-blue ceiling. There’s a dark, shadowy cobweb in the corner, which he hasn’t bothered to brush away, and it’s some time until the Dawn Chorus will finally tip him into blessed, longed-for sleep.

There’s a large lump in the duvet in front of him, snoring gently. Malcolm cautiously extends a bony forefinger and prods the approximate area for the right shoulder. The figure – Jamie – doesn’t stir. Malcolm wonders if Jamie will still be here when he finally wakes up wrapped in the tangled bedsheet sometime around 11am. He closes his eyes, then regrets it as the memories of the previous evening flash back, one by one, in glaring Technicolor.

 

‘It was ye, wasn’t it, Tucker? Ye fucked Ollie Reeder’s scrawny arse over the fuckin’ gents’ sink,’ Jamie snarled, as Malcolm tried to hold his flailing form back with one long, shaking arm.

‘Yeah? Who the fuck hasn’t?’ Tucker spat back. ‘The fucker’s like Everest, everyone’s gotta climb him…’

‘On our fuckin’ anniversary!’ Jamie roared. ‘Ye couldn’t even wait a fuckin’ extra day, could ye, cunt?’

Malcolm dodged Jamie’s swinging fist, then grabbed both of his wrists and hurled him against the nearest wall, pinning him.

‘OK,’ Malcolm hissed at Jamie’s furious face, ‘I’ll see fuckin’ Ollie Reeder, and raise ye Sam Cassidy.’

‘I have nae idea what ye’re fuckin’ talkin’ about,’ Jamie muttered, trying and failing to push Malcolm away from him.

‘Don’t ye? Ye don’t remember bein’ under MY fuckin’ desk, licking her out?’ Malcolm said, glaring.

‘Fuck’s sake, Malc. Go an’ have a fuckin’ lie down. Fuckin’ hot weather’s got tae ye, ye’ve gone paranoid a-fuckin’-gain!’ Jamie said. 

 

Malcolm remembers the sneer on Jamie’s face and shudders, feeling cold and sick.

 

‘I know it was ye,’ Malcolm hissed. ‘I caught her comin’ in mai fuckin’ chair. She pretended she was yawnin’, but I wasn’t born fuckin’ yesterday…’

Malcolm glared at the floor, trying to hide his face from Jamie’s huge, beautiful, mocking blue eyes. 

‘Fuckin’ hypocrite. Dinnae know what ye’re complainin’ about. Nae different from ye and fuckin’ Nicola Murray.’

‘I haven’t got a fuckin’ clue what ye’re goin’ on about…’ Malcolm snapped, raising his head and pushing Jamie against the wall again.

‘In. The. Fuckin’. Pantry.’ Jamie barked into Malcolm’s face. ‘Fuck sake, Malc. We all heard ye. Even that fuckin’ idiot John Duggan knew what was goin’ on. She’s a fuckin’ screamer, that one.’

‘Yeah, well, ye’d know all about that fuckin’ pantry,’ Malcolm shouted. ‘All those times ye’ve gobbled fuckin’ Julius Nicholson in there…’

‘Don’t be sae fuckin’ stupid, Malc, it only happened the once – '

 

Malcolm squeezes his eyes shut as he remembers slapping Jamie across the face and hears again his howl of surprise and pain.

 

‘Fuck’s sake, Malc! Ye fuckin’ psychopath!’ Jamie yelled at him. 

He shoved Malcolm out of his way, and galloped towards the stairs.

‘I’m gonnae go tae fuckin’ bed, now! Twat!’ Jamie screamed.

‘Yeah? Surprised ye didn’t say ‘I’m going home to mother,’ ya fuckin’ prick!’ Malcolm roared at Jamie’s retreating form.

‘Fuck off!’ Jamie yelled back. The sound of the bedroom door slamming reverberated through the kitchen until the room righted itself once more and Malcolm was left alone.

 

Malcolm remembers silence, whisky and tears. More tears seep through, and he blinks them away.

Cautiously, he reaches out again and strokes Jamie’s curls. Jamie doesn’t respond. Malcolm sighs, and turns over. Moments later, he feels warm, solid arms surrounding him, familiar lips pressing against his neck, hair tickling his skin.

‘Are ye asleep?’ Jamie murmurs.

‘Aye,’ Malcolm says, his eyes closing.

‘Fuckin’ liar,’ Jamie says, kissing Malcolm’s earlobe.

Malcolm relaxes into Jamie’s embrace. Finally, enough of an absolution to tip him into the deep blue blissful oblivion of sleep.


End file.
